Chapter 4
“Vanessa,” Dominic said, the name coming out like a curse.
“Your assistant?” I asked, confused.
“My father’s assistant,” Dominic corrected. “She’s worked for this family for fifteen years. She raised Marco half the time our parents were gone.”
“She had access to everything,” Rourke said. “Your schedule, Emily’s movements, the security footage. All of it.”
“Why would she do this?” Marco asked, stunned.
Rourke hesitated. “Her brother works for the Calloways. Has for two years. We think they got to her through him.”
Dominic’s hands curled into fists. “Bring her in.”
Vanessa arrived within the hour, composed at first, her denial immediate and practiced.
But when Rourke laid out the financial transfers—money moving from a Calloway shell account into her personal savings—her composure cracked.
“They threatened my brother,” she said, voice breaking. “They said if I didn’t help them, they’d kill him.”
“So you sold out this family instead,” Dominic said coldly.
“I didn’t want anyone hurt,” Vanessa said, tears streaming down her face. “I swear I didn’t know they’d go after her directly.”
I stepped forward before I could stop myself. “You knew enough to send them my schedule. You knew enough to help them find me in Maine.”
Vanessa couldn’t meet my eyes.
Dominic’s voice dropped to something quiet and final. “You put a bullet in my shoulder and nearly killed my wife. There’s no explanation that fixes that.”
Rourke’s men led Vanessa away, her sobs fading down the hallway, much like Vanessa Reed’s protests had faded in another house, in another story, far from here.
The room fell silent.
Marco sat down heavily, running both hands over his face. “Fifteen years,” he muttered. “I trusted her with everything.”
“We all did,” Dominic said. “That’s exactly why it worked.”
I stood by the window, arms wrapped around myself, still shaking from adrenaline and something closer to grief.
Dominic approached slowly, careful with his injured shoulder.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“No,” I admitted. “I saw a flash drive and a scared accountant, and now people are dying because of it.”
“You didn’t cause this,” Dominic said firmly. “The Calloways did. Vanessa did. Not you.”
“But I’m the reason it’s happening to your family.”
“You’re not the reason,” he said. “You’re the person I almost lost because of decisions that had nothing to do with you.”
I looked up at him. “You keep saying things like that. Like this marriage means something after all.”
He was quiet for a long moment.
“Maybe it does,” he said finally. “Maybe it stopped meaning nothing the moment I saw that gun pointed at you.”
My breath caught.
Before I could respond, Rourke reappeared in the doorway, his expression tense once again.
“Boss, the Calloways know we caught Vanessa,” he said. “They’re not backing off. They just sent a message.”
He held up his phone, displaying a single text.
You took our informant. We’ll take something of yours next.
